


Male Fart Fics

by orphan_account



Category: Original - Fandom
Genre: Adorable, Belching, Bloating, Farting, I REGRET NOTHING, I should be sleeping, M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Stuffing, Tummy rubs, Why Did I Write This?, gassy - Freeform, male farts, prompts, seriously Why did I write this?, tummy noises, what even is this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 00:05:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12829029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Collection of various fetish prompts I've received. Mature content. Readers discretion advised. Each 'chapter' will include its own summary in the beginning. Enjoy!





	1. Parker and Jasper: Fiber One Fiasco

"They were so good." He pouted. His tummy was usually flat but it now protruded obscenely. Jasper had overdone it of course. The boy had no understanding of moderation which often led to him suffering gastric distress while Parker played the perfect boyfriend, rubbing his tummy. "They shouldn't sell them in such big boxes if you're not supposed to eat all of them!"

"Twenty four Jasper. That's more than anyone should eat in one day. That's 216 grams of fiber." Parker breathed out. Jasper's tummy burbled in agreement and the boy whimpered. "You're going to be feeling uncomfortable for a while."

The nurse helped people all day long so coming home to a patient every few days got exhausting. "I feel so bloated." He stifled a belch face turning red. "Excuse me."

Parker knew that a quiet burp would be the joke of the evening once the fiber began to do its work. He had binged on other foods before this. It was a real problem for him mentally. He saw a counselor and Parker had to lock the cabinets. But this was going to be a nightmare. "Am I going to poop a lot?" He whispered shamefully. Parker had to remind himself that he didn't do this on purpose. 

"You had a rough work day huh buddy?" He rubbed his belly carefully. He was avoiding the question because Jasper wouldn't like the answer. "That's okay but we could have just talked about it rather than you trying to make yourself feel better with food."

Jasper's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking gross."

"No honey. It's a problem. Maybe we should up your Vyvanse?"

"But I don't eat on it." He complained. "And I like food!"

His tummy grumbled. "I can tell." Parker teased carefully, reluctant to hurt the already fragile boy.

Jasper moaned, tensing up. "Ow-UUUURRRP." Jasper blushed bright red as the massive belch escaped. "I'm sor-orp-ry."

"It's alright. You're gonna have a lot of gas moving around. So you can expect gurgles and belching and toots."

"For how long?"

"A few days?" Parker guessed. "But I can call out of work tomorrow if you still need me. And I'm off all weekend."

Soothed by this Jasper stretched out rubbing his side as a sharp cramp appeared. "Ow." He complained. "Is this going to be worse than when I ate too many of the ghost pepper tacos on Fright Night?"

Parker almost shuttered. Between the sound of his diarrhea and the endless sputtering gas he had to deal with all night that was wicked hot and made his eyes burn, he could only hope it wasn't. "It wasn't spicy." He decided was a safe response.

"Oh! Oh!" Jasper shifted uncomfortably. "I think I have to toot Parker." 

He looked embarrassed so his boyfriend rubbed his tummy a bit firmer. "Go ahead baby."

It rumbled up between his legs as Jasper groaned out in relief. "Whew! That one wasn't so bad was it? Is it smelly?"

"Not really." Parker replied but that would change and he knew it. He loved Jasper, he really did. But self control wasn't his forte and they spent many evenings like this. 

But regardless Parker rubbed his overfilled stomach, aware of the fact it was getting more bloated each passing moment. A rush of gurgling caught both their attentions. Parker could feel it beneath his hand while Jasper suffered another cramp. The bloated boy moaned in discontent and looked down at the heap of wrappers on the floor. Parker had come right in and began to tend to the blue eyed man as soon as he realized. He hadn't cleaned up quite yet or taken off his shoes or even changed out of scrubs. "Can you rub up here?" Jasper wrung his hands together uncomfortably. "I'm sorry Parker."

"It's okay." He tried not to sigh, he really did, but the two were in for a hell of a night and he knew it. The box had originally come with thirty and as a way to keep himself regular he'd been eating them on the floor. And they had tore his stomach up too much to keep going. So after a week of truly out of hand gas with not much else, he decided to abandon the idea and eat vegetables likes he should have been the entire time. But he has been too embarrassed to mention the side effects to Jasper and now look where they were? He placed his hand over the swell of his abdomen and as he pressed down Parker turned his face toward the couch, burping. "Better?"

He shook his head tightly and Parker frowned. He worked the spot a bit more resulting in softer belches but none of them seemed remotely satisfying. 216 grams of fiber at work right? Parker had a slight concern of a potential blockage but Jasper had overindulged on so much he thought his digestive system could probably take it. Parker ran his hand in wider circlers once the spot stopped releasing any gas for Jasper, marveling at how soft and smooth his skin was. Really the two were wildly in love and save for nights like this, had a very normal relationship. Jasper worked from home as an emergency phone operator. His office was down the hall to the right. "Did you take your medicine this morning?" Parker hated asking him that because frankly it felt like he was parenting him. 

Jasper sighed out. "No. I was going to make you dinner and I wanted to be able to eat with you. It makes it so I'm not hungry." He complained. "And I know that's the point but..."

Parker rubbed his leg comfortingly with his free hand. "I just wanted to make sure it's still working for you. And you're very sweet to have planned that."

"I can still do it." He insisted somewhat weakly. "I might be a blimp but I can stand!"

He threw his legs around the side of the couch and heaved his bloated body upright, letting out a loud belch as he did so. "Oh, hee, that one helped a bit."

Parker smiled as he stooped down to gather the wrappers. "Well if you're up for it I'm going to take a shower."

"Can you, um, open the cupboards for me?"

It had been three years they'd been living together officially and it was still so humiliating for Jasper to ask. It had its moments where Jasper wanted to binge and Parker had to be the stubborn one to say no and remind him he'd already ate and had extra snacks. Only once had Jasper told him he hated him but it still made Parker cry to think about. 

"Of course." He kept the little gold key on his key ring. Each morning before he left take out enough for Jasper to feed himself plus a little extra and snacks. He didn't want Jasper to go hungry but he also didn't want him to make himself sick from overeating. "Is it a surprise?"

Jasper smiled. "It's supposed to be."

"Then I'll turn around then. Let me know."

The cupboard with cups and such were left open but drawers on the fridge still had locks as well a panel installed to keep him from the refrigerated foods. To someone walking in it probably looked awful. Like those foster homes that denied children food. But Jasper wasn't a child and Parker always made sure he had enough. "Okay." 

He took the key back and went upstairs to take off his work clothes. He took a hot shower, mentally preparing himself for a long night before he stepped into their bedroom and rooted through his closet for something comfortable. A sweater and sweatpants sounded nice. Jasper never expected Parker to dress up for him and he appreciated that. After a long day on the floor he preferred comfort. Back in the kitchen he found Jasper hadn't gotten too far into cooking but he was leaning heavily against the counter rubbing his stomach in uneasy circles while he belched into his fist. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm ju-UUURP, excuse me, a little ORRP gassy." His face was red as he eased off the counter a rubbing a bit lower on his stomach. He grunted then sighed. "It's not ready yet."

Parker offered him a smile. "Let me help?"

"With my tummy?" He asked hopefully. 

"Well sure but I meant dinner." Parker was absolutely starving. 

"Oh! Okay. I was going to make you potato gnocchi." He held up the little package from the fridge. "Is that okay?"

He burped while he waited for my reply. "That sounds wonderful."

***

Giving Jasper more food wasn't the best idea.

But Parker couldn't eat in front of him and deny him a meal he cooked. That wasn't fair either. So he had a bite here and there. He was cheerful and chatting for a bit afterward until the cramps started back up. "Oh man." He gripped his sides with a distressed look on his face.

"Do you need another tummy rub?" Parker asked anxiously.

Jasper bit his lip. "I really need to toot." He admitted.

"Go ahead."

He shifted and grunted but nothing happened. "It's stuck." He frowned. 

"Let's see if we can unstick it." Parker knew the gas that came along with the one of the bars and couldn't wrap his mind around how awful this experience would be. "You don't need to be embarrassed."

"Easy for you to say. UUURRP. You never belch or toot." He laid back and belched again. "Excuse me."

Toot. He was just too cute. "Of course I do." Parker pushed up his now tighter shirt to reach his belly.

"Well not in front of me. Ooh can you rub below my belly button? It really hurts."

"Here?" Parker settled his hand down gently but when he got a winced nod he applied a rolling pressure. 

Jasper groaned through his teeth and shifted uncomfortably. Parker let off afraid he'd hurt him. "No don't--UUUURRRRRRRRP." Jasper slapped his hand over his mouth in embarrassment as a truly rambunctious belch escaped. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Parker almost wanted to giggle but as his face pinched a wet gurgling cane from his tummy he was reminded how uncomfortable he must be. "Let me know if it hurts."

Jasper nodded mutely, face still bright red, as Parker found the spot and rubbed it some more. Eventually Jasper was grunting in motion with his hand, moaning lightly between belches. "It's just not moving." He complained sounding near tears. "And it hurts!"

Just as Parker was beginning to think it could truly be a blockage Jasper gasped and a truly huge toot was drilled into the couch. Parker pulled his hand back as Jasper folded into himself, letting out the trapped air. By the time it petered out Jasper had lost his breath flopping back. A few softer toots puffed out of him as he panted. "Jesus." Parker mumbled waving a hand in front of himself as subtly as he could. Had his gas been this rank? 

"Why so I still feel so full?" Jasper complained to the ceiling. "That was the biggest toot of my life!"

Parker wasn't so sure, remembering his ice cream binge. "Well honey you're probably going to have a lot of toots and burps." Parker reminded him.

Jasper groaned and ripped another lengthy toot. "Ugh you let them all out." He complained lowly. He belched into his first and moaned. "I'm going to be tooting all night and it's smelly!"

He cocked thigh and ripped another one, noticeably louder and longer than the little poots from before. "Excuse me."

"You're excused for the night." Parker granted him. Jasper was sweet and shy about his gas which, thanks to his disorder, he often had in excess. And that led to an annoying constant apology string. "Do still need belly rubs?"

"Am I️ too stinky to be around?" He asked hesitantly. 

His bout his dried apricots had given truly unbearable gas and Parker had politely asked he stick to one room after he vomited twice--and he worked with fouls smells daily. But this wasn't awful and Parker knew it hurt his feelings when he left him alone to suffer. "No baby. You're not too stinky." 

"Mm'kay." He tipped head back massaging his bloated belly with a yawn. "Gosh I feel so...big."

"You are quite bloated," Parker reminded him unnecessarily. Jasper felt like he had gained about fifty extra pounds around his middle. "I could run out and get some Gas-X if you're worried about it passing sooner?"

Jasper blanched at the idea. After over-consuming at the local Chinese buffet Parker had helped him home where nothing could relieve the pressure until Parker convinced him to take the pills. But all evening he was releasing massive toots, even waking him from a dead sleep just to rip one that left a noxious smell in the area. It did its job and by the next morning all the windows were open but he didn't feel bloated in the slightest. "It's coming okay." He assured the concerned nurse leaning to side and letting hot air rumble against the couch. "It's smelly though."

Rotten eggs and shit invaded Parker's nose as he tried to seem indifferent. The stench blanketed them and Parker pulled back his hand to try and clear the air. Parker whimpered at the loss of a warm hand and he shifted upward to talk to Parker, let out another loud belch. "I'm sorry--oh! My toots smell awful." His tone was meek and embarrassed. "I'm sorry. God I'm so fucking gross--"

"Hey." Parker fought the urge to open the nearest window and get a lungful of clean air so he could rub his boyfriends protruding gut. He could be six months along at his size! He was worried about how the rest of the weekend would progress. "Don't apologize. It's a normal body function--I do it to."

"When you're sleeping." Jasper smiled mischievously. "Like all the time."

The insecure side of Parker was immediately mortified and wondered if any of his older partners had known about his sleep habit and simply not told him. "Exactly." He said a bit of the confidence from before gone. 

A nasty gurgling, like someone blowing air through thick sludge rose from Jasper's middle. The bloated boy's face contorted in pain and discomfort and Parker immediately returned to rubbing it softly. Eventually the noise eased up and Jasper was able to relax some as soft toots puttered out of him. Parker on a holiday film to try and distract him as he tried to knead more air out Jasper's ballooning tummy. "Ooh!" Jasper let out a lustrous moan that would have sounded much better during an erotic act rather than the pre-game to a huge, wet fart bursting free.

It ripped out of his boyfriend's ass louder than all the rest with a under tone gurgling that let me know that Jasper's farts were quickly becoming dangerous for the couch and his underwear. "Oh my god," Jasper whimpered. "I don't know where that one came from?"

Parker had skillfully been maneuvering the gas out before and cramps set in. He wanted his boyfriend to feel only relief. "Your tummy. Maybe we could lay down the towels on the floor and get you out of those blankets."

"I can't move." He pouted. Another ripe toot rumbled up from between his legs. "Tha-UUUuuRRpppp! Excuse me. That one felt really h-orp-hot. Sorry."

"I really don't want you to have an accident again." He reminded Jasper. He was trying to be mean but this wasn't an ideal situation. "I'll help you."

Jasper threw a sweaty arm over Parker's shoulder as he slid him onto the laid towels. He the movements shifted two loud blasts from him but once they had him settled he was belching almost uncontrollably. "I think you--URP--shifted the-orp-gas ar--OOOORRRP--nd P--UUURP--ker!" 

"Do you think you're going to vomit?" He asked anxiously.

He shook his head continuing to belch in his fist. Eventually that gas lessened and he was able to string together a full sentence without a gassy interruption. "I'm sorry Parker. You shouldn't come home just to work." He sniffled. "You must be so tired."

Of course he was tired but more than that he was worried. The love of his life was swollen and uncomfortable but he was honored to be here and care for him. "Ooh no." Jasper moaned and buried his face in the crook of his elbow. 

The fart began low, a steady bubbling before it increased in volume. It had to go on for almost seven seconds and when it stopped Jasper was practically crying. "Baby--"

"There's more, there so much more to come out and its smells awful!" His belly gave a sickening gurgle. "You don't have to sit down here with me. I'm just going to be tooting and belching like a pig."

He finished his little speech with another long winded wet fart that was so revolting he considered bailing. "No baby. I don't care if I have to sit here all weekend rubbing your belly, I'm not going to leave you alone to suffer. It was my fault. I left them out."

"I ate them all! Because I'm a pig with no self control! It's just the caller was screaming at me and so-so I screamed back and my supervisor was listening and she told me it was ok--UURRP--excuse me, but I'm going to be fired. I just know it."

Parker understood why he had binged in that moment and frowned at the poor boy. "You're one of their best workers." He reminded him. "That's why you're the team leader. Your percentages are off the charts. One little argument with a customer isn't going to change any of that."

Jasper sought assurance constantly. His low self esteem made it necessary that he knew he was doing okay at all times. And when there wasn't anything that offer that comfort he found comfort in binging. Which left him bloated and with the shits more often than not. Jasper groaned out sharply and another wet toot left his overfilled bowels.

It would be a long night but it was worth it.


	2. Dylan and Xander: Giving It Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *second installment in this very strange piece of work that I'm loving writing oh my god*
> 
> Your first time is always memorable. And Xander and Dylan will certain remember their first time.

This was it. 

Two months, eighteen days and fourteen hours in and Xander was ready. He knew he wanted Dylan to be his first. He was caring and experienced and so patient that Xander was thrilled to surprise him with this. And scared to death. He had done things before. The two enjoyed heavy petting during films and making out on the couch but never had Xander opened the door to his bedroom. 

But tonight things would be different. He washed his bedding and vacuumed. He shooed his cat out three times before growing irritated and putting her on the patio where she'd much rather be anyway so he could make it seem like he was a much neater person than he actually was. The plan was so simple: dinner, movie, the s-word. 

He hadn't wanted to rush and Dylan respected that never pushing the twenty year old on the topic. Dylan had changed Xander's life. He had crippling social anxiety that left him holed up in the closet with a very select group of friends (his cat and best friend Frieda and who had moved to Indiana a month ago). Then came the black haired hottie who made him feel like something special.

It was a good choice. He was absolutely sure of it... Kind of. The clock ticked down much quicker than he would have liked and he quickly put on something presentable. They met at the local diner, always so calm on weekday nights. Xander needed that to be comfortable and Dylan was happy just spending time with him. It was a quiet low key place where you sat yourself. It was sparsely populated, mostly older patrons seeking the early bird specials. The two men took their seats in the very back where Xander was always most comfortable. 

Dylan, an IT rep at the local law firm, was absolutely fascinated by Xander. They had dropped the l-bomb almost a month ago and he couldn't believe he had started out with the intention of getting into the blushing cutie's pants. The plan was instantly side railed as he fell hard for him and even though it was a long wait to feel his bare skin beneath his hands, he was content to give it time. 

"How was your day?" Dylan asked curiously. "You didn't text me much."

"Oh! Uhm I was kinda busy." He shrugged trying to seem nonchalant and Dylan smiled. "But it was good, yeah."

"Lucky you. Our servers went down like six times during heavy traffic flow and Mr. Wheeler insisted I help him set up his new phone." Dylan rolled his eyes at the memory. The fifty six year old man was a few years from retiring and had graduated from a flip phone the newest smart phone--unsuccessfully. 

A waiter hesitated by the table asking for drink orders. The service at the restaurant was minimal which was why Xander liked it. No peppy waitresses inquiring your food was okay every ten minutes to ensure they got that twenty percent tip they wanted. "Water." Xander mumbled to the table. Dylan took his hand, cold and clammy despite the fact they were familiar with the waiter: Peter. He was immediately concerned. 

"I'll take one too." He wondered what could have happened today to make his anxious boyfriend even more nervous. "You okay?"

"Fine." Xander peeped up at him through feathery blond bangs. "Did you decide what you wanted to see?"

"Oh I don't care. I only go for the popcorn anyway." He grinned deviously as Xander smiled into his hand. He had the cutest little gap between his teeth he was terribly self conscious about. "So your day was okay then?"

"Mmhm." He wasn't being completely honest but Dylan knew be littlest things could off set his tone for the day and he didn't want to spoil the evening by making him more upset. He never hesitated to let Dylan know if he was really upset or needed to leave a location. He would sit in the car and hold him tightly while Xander powered through a panic attack. He would gladly spend house holding the quaking boy if need be.

The waters came and the two placed their usual orders. Routine kept Xander comfortable. After their meal they went to local cinema, almost completely empty as it was Wednesday and the two enjoyed a recently released film in a near empty theatre. It was a romance however and those never held much interest for Dylan. He liked his movies gory but Xander did not and he loved him more than he liked getting his way. So he dealt. He sucked down an ridiculous sized coke and ate the entire bucket of popcorn almost single handed as he fought the urge to go on his phone. It was rude to do it during an outing, no matter how long the two had dated. 

As the movie wrapped up Dylan regretted eating so much popcorn. He felt too full and as he stood he could feel the soda sloshing heavily in his stomach. He belched quietly into his first while Xander was distracted and sighed a bit. That was a bit better. Outside they stood beneath the street lamp, holding hands. The streets were deserted and the night was relatively warm. "I had fun." Dylan told him unnecessarily. He always had fun with Xander. The quiet man was light of his existence currently. 

"Me too. Do you want to come over?"

Dylan ran a hand over his stomach absent mindlessly, uncomfortably full but still carrying the hope he may get to see in the inside if Xander's bedroom. Not that he'd ever push. But still, a man could wish. "Sure." 

Xander smiled brightly. "Okay! I'll meet you there?" 

"Absolutely." 

The two go into their separate vehicles. Xander was thrilled to death of what awaited them--Dylan didn't expect much more than nice talk and catching up on the latest Naked and Afraid episode. He just wished he hadn't eaten quite so much of the buttery grain in such a fellow swoop. 

Xander lived in a cute little town house remodeled to house four units. His was the bottom left side with a decorative plants placed in front of the door. The man had proudly had his own apartment for a year now that his job was steady. He was a data inputter, communicating almost primarily through emails and memos in his own little cubicle tucked away from loud ringing phones and too-social neighbors. Dylan was aching to follow suite and rid himself of his obnoxious gym rat roommate but he like the disposable income and he hoped the two be moving in together soon. Inside he was greeted with the delightful smell of French vanilla and the yowl of an overzealous Mimzy. The Maine coon strutted to the door, meowing with each step as she waited for her owner to scoop her up. 

He did so, briefly, and set her on the edge of the couch. She seemed offended and the quick end of the affection as her ears pricked up in confusion. Dylan slid his feet out of his shoes with a grimace of discomfort. A sharp pain had developed on his left side on the ride over. He massaged it as he found his way to couch. 

He was pretty comfort here, snagging the remote and finding something worth his time. His stomach gave off a sloshing gurgle and he snorted to himself. He used to live off fast food and energy drinks but some soda and popcorn was going to mess up his stomach? It was amazingly what a few year difference could do to one's GI tract. 

Well he wasn't in college anymore after all, he reasoned. The sour taste of chewed popcorn hung in his mouth and he slipped into the little bathroom for mouth wash. As he spat out the electric blue minty substance into the basin he caught sight of the trash and froze. A douche? Either he had a female guest who got really comfortable or he had been preparing for something that made Dylan's heart jump a beat. He leaned down to peek at the box and drew back as he began to wonder if his boyfriend was going to give him his flower.

It felt silly thinking of it like that. He had already had a handful of sexual partners personally and more than once he had bottomed so he understood the mechanics but it was hard to image his shy little Xander to have made such a huge choice when Dylan had no idea they were heading such a direction. Another gurgle and he rolled his eyes. And on the worst night apparently.

He went back to the couch quickly wondering what Xander was doing in the bedroom for so long (was he supposed to wander in there and find him naked with rose petals?) and flipped the station absentmindedly. His belly continued to let out digestive moans as it was forced to deal with food they thought they'd outgrown and Dylan regretted his casual choice to mow down. Popcorn made everyone a bit gassy. He was used to popping off a few more than normal before bed after they went to the movies but normally they hardly made a dent in the bucket that came with the ticket package they always got. 

That was a whole lot of popcorn.

Xander sauntered in with a confidence Dylan hadn't seen before and he had to admit it was sexy. He had slipped into something less comfortable but it looked so good on his pert ass he couldn't complain. Xander knelt over Dylan's lap, once again blowing him away with how forward he was being. Usually Dylan gently led but he was more than happy to let this wonderful moment play out.

His tummy gurgled again and Xander glanced down at it seeming spooked. "Sorry. Uh, hungry." Dylan lied with a shrug. 

"I can make you something?" Xander offered softly. Too sweet.

"No, no. I like what's in front of me." He'd be damned if he let his stomach fuck this moment up for him. He could feel strange rushes inside him, as if bubbles were moving from one side of his stomach to the other but he ignored it, Xander kissing him softly.

Things got more heated as the evening progressed, hands moving over each the other while their mouth worked together hungrily. His belly let off some more agitated sounds but the heavily breathing made it easy to ignore. "Can we...do it?" Xander asked nervously as he pulled back. "I love you Dylan and...I'm ready."

His lips were swollen and face flushed in sexual bliss. It was hot... Dylan was so hot. And the way he was leaning against him put a lot of pressure on his stomach. Had Xander not been so fragile he would have said no but this was a huge step and no amount of reasoning would make him believe he wasn't feeling well. He'd be heart broke and humiliated seeing it as a rejection. And this was a big deal: almost three months being with this fantastic guy and this was the first time he'd be intimate with him. He'd be a fool to skip out for a belly ache. 

"I love you Alexander," Dylan retorted. "And I would be honored to make love to you tonight."

Xander blushed and hid his face in the crock of Dylan's shoulder. He let out a light hearted laugh but his stomach cramped up as more pressure was put on puffy area. "Okay but promise you won't make fun of me if I'm bad at it?" He asked anxiously.

"I'd never make fun of you. We'll go nice and slow and by the time we're finish you'll be a pro." He grinned cockily and Xander thankfully got up. He was small guy but oh man he was starting to feel like he's swallowed at watermelon! "Show me the way, love."

Each step made the cramps worsen over his hips. Seeing Xander bedroom for the first time was a treat but he was just aching to lay across the bed, stuff a pillow under stomach and see if could let out some of the pressure. It absolutely fucking killed. He tried to stay in the moment as Xander stripped down. He was lithe with unblemished caramel skin. A ten outta ten easy! He rubbed his arms briskly as he stood naked in front of his partner. No one had seen him this exposed before and he felt exposed.

"You're perfect babe." Dylan kissed him feeling his loosen up under his lips. Good. Being tense would make it even more uncomfortable. "I like how you decorated your room." 

It was simple with beige carpeting, egg shell paint and a Queen bed with a white fluffy bedspread. Mimzy mewled her entrance and Xander went crimson covering himself with a pillow. His inexperience and innocence was endearing. "Dylan you left the door open!" Xander cried accusingly.

"She's a cat baby. She doesn't know."

"She does so! And we can't do it in front of her that's...weird."

Dylan chuckled stooping to pick up the cat. A short gust of wind saw it chance and hissed out. It wasn't noisy but it left behind a heavy heat that made it clear how rancid it would smell. Dylan was blushing at this point too as he waited for the thick smell to finally set in. "Ugh! Mimzy, ew!" Xander pinched his nose and opened a window. Dylan experienced an uneasy rush of relief. The gas had just slipped out so easily--if he did it while they made love Xander would know he had let Mimzy take the blame! Dylan shuttered at how awkward it was doing to be. "I'm sorry, we're trying a new food."

He sounded horribly embarrassed and Dylan smiled. "It's alright. She doesn't know any better." But he did. "Now where were we?"

"Close the door," Xander reminded him nervously.

The stench still hung in the small room because Xander had all the shades drawn tight. He figured he may as well try and vent it all out now. A few more hot ones hissed out as he close the door before he felt a large bubble drop heavily into his colon. "Oh my God it smells so bad." Poor Xander. Dylan was ruining this night shamelessly ripping ass while feigning innocence.  "She's never done this before! I should call the vet."

"I'm sure she's fine," Dylan replied. He was aching to drop another one but it was a gamble on how loud it would be. A silent rumble made him clench tightly and a little popper escaped making the bad smell even worse. 

"I don't know. She was only in here for a second and this is awful!" Xander twisted his hands together, face screwed up right in disgust. Dylan began to feel even more embarrassed about the situation and considered letting him take her to clinic while he went home and gassed out his bedroom like a loser. But Xander has put so much planning and--oh God he had to fart. 

"I'll go see if it smell out there," Dylan decided quickly. "She might have just been mad you were kicking her out and gave you her worst."  

Xander, never the type to be amused by bodily functions, nodded tightly. "Okay--wait!" He slipped into the bed making sure he well covered before granted Dylan permission to open the door. He certainly was unique. Mimzy was at her water dish but eyed him suspiciously as he approached.

"You feeling okay girl?" He asked loudly for Xander'a sake. He pressed on his lower stomach trying to break up the collection into little ones he could pass less conspicuously. "You look alright."

"Is her nose wet? Check her nose." Xander's drifted to him and he let out a low dry rumbling fart that practically made him roll his eyes back in relief. "Dylan?"

"She slipped under the entertainment center: I'll get her out. One second."

He used the edge of the couch to apply extra pressure as he let out quiet but audible farts with a stifled groan. Never had he been in such a weird situation, farting up a storm pretending to check on the well-being of a cat grooming her paw casually in a window sill while his boyfriend was waiting to get up his virginity. His bowels grew used to the open passageway and extra pressure was no longer necessary as the gas shifted downward--slowly. "Dylan?" 

"I'm checking." He tried to keep his voice light but why did he have to be so swollen and uncomfortable tonight? And how was he going to explain spending ten minutes out there only to return t the bedroom and assure Xander his cat was alright while hoping that the smell wouldn't linger around his ass because had hoped, before he began dropping ass everywhere, for Xander's pretty pink lips to wrap around his dick tonight. 

He gave up and went back to the room waving his hand desperately around the seat of his pants. "She's alright." This time he made sure to shut the door to keep the smell from seeping it. "She took a dump. She's good."

Xander crinkled his nose then sighed in relief. "Okay good. I was worried." He toyed with his fingers and Dylan recalled the task at hand. 

"You're so sexy." He crawled up onto the bed and kissed Xander who flushed.

"Should you get naked too?" 

That would be helpful Dylan. Jesus H you're a mess. He smiled apologetically and undressed, not missing the extra smell that came when dropped his underwear. Just imaging Xander noticing made his face sear. Sure enough his nose crinkled and he put two and two together with a look of utter offense. "Oh my God was that you?"

Dylan felt like an idiot. He was standing naked, flaccid, and stinking with bloated insides in front of the man he loved on a very special day for the both of them. He was so stupid. "God I'm sorry." He rambled. "I wasn't feeling well but I didn't want to disappoint you and I really love you and then the cat--"

Xander buries his face in his hands and his shoulders trembled. Dylan let like trash. He'd made him cry. "I'm sorry I ruined this. I-I'll go."

"Ruined it?" Xander peeked up and Dylan realized he had been laughing. "All this time I was so scared of accidentally let one go and here you are... I'm sorry I don't mean to laugh I just--are you feeling better?"

"A bit." He muttered awkwardly. He pulled his pants and his stomach bubbled silently as if reminding he had plenty to let go. "Eating all that popcorn wasn't a good idea."

Xander managed to calm his laughter long enough to peek at the clock. "Are you still feeling up to it?" He asked a bit nervously.

Dylan hadn't expected that as he blinked. "I mean... If you don't mind?"

"According to all the forums it's natural." Xander teased gently. "Are you sure you're feeling up to it?"

"Yeah but some may slip out. Just warning you." Dylan grinned apologetically and Xander rolled his eyes with a smile. 

"Well then we better open both the windows then I guess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha so like, I got quite a bit of hits and even a few kudos and comments (which were freaking awesome btw, like thank you so much for reading this and actually liking it!) so I figured, why not add another? Let me know what you think


	3. Unexpected Connections (Mr. Raymond & his Slut)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mistakes leads Mr. Raymond to discover an unexpected kink at his Slut's expense.   
> *includes male gas, humiliation, some BDSM there's, strong language, mature situations, gay content, and some scat*

How they met was a story for sure; disobedience met obedience, light and darkness coming together. Mr. Raymond and the intern. The two connected during their brief meeting in the marbled hallway of Raymond and Cohn Advertising while his supervisor Sam excitedly showed him what she had been working on. Her lilac blouse had been low and inviting, tucked into a pencil skirt that fit her like a second skin.

But Mr. Raymond hadn't been looking at her exposed supple flesh. He had his sights on the raven hair boy staring passively to the side unaware of who he was standing in front of. The primal side of the business man was solicited by the slight blush on his cheeks. The boy had most likely been doing coffee runs as all interns did and this moment, working with a 'real' designer must have meant the world to him while Sam gladly spent his time talking at a man who cared very little for what she had to say at the moment.

"I don't believe we've met." He cut her off rudely eyes glued on the frightened young man who realized he'd been seen. "I'm Mr. Raymond."

His first name, Stephen, would never grace the boy's lips except in secret with only his closest friend. What happened in the next moment was a completely loss of innocence. The intern became known as Jesse and a few short weeks later Slut. What was a slur to most was a pet name that the intern adored. He loved the husky tone Mr. Raymond would get and how his glacier blue gaze got even colder but somehow softer. 

Jesse left his run down efficiency unit and moved to a penthouse of his dreams. He was offered a promotion that gave him full creative power over a single brand which quickly grew to two and then three and then four... While Mr. Raymond would do anything for his Slut, he'd never let him fuck his way his way up the company. Each promotion was earned in the office not on his knees as many suggested.

Three years later Mr. Raymond and his Slut were happy as ever, going to kink clubs and pushing each other's boundaries--sometimes to the breaking point. But never past it. He knew what his Slut could take or even learn to love and what he didn't like. No body part was left un-enjoyed. And never were they bored. 

It was a Sunday evening when it first happened.

The two had enjoyed red wine over a light dinner of steamed salmon over Asian veggies with a lemony sauce trickled over the top. Jesse complained about the wine immediately. "White would go much better Mr. Raymond." He cut into the delicate filet sourly. 

Mr. Raymond hummed briefly in surprise. His Slut was never one to whine or pout and while he was gladly thinking of fun ways to correct such actions he was curious as to why a wine they so rarely enjoyed struck such a nerve. "And what's so wrong with a nice red?" Mr. Raymond asked with a scolding edge letting his Slut know he was in trouble.

"I just don't like it." He huffed. 

Mr. Raymond had been disappointed in a thrilling way at his reaction and not only topped off the glass but made him drink two more brimming cups. His little light weight was a bit more than tipsy by the time he threw down his fork. "Will you help me to bed Mr. Raymond?" He asked in a sultry voice the older man could never refuse. 

He felt weighted with wine and intoxication as he was swept to the little elevator that took them to the upstairs bedroom suite. It boasted a beautiful view of the city on the patio, situated at the fourth tallest building in the city. Upstairs Mr. Raymond suggested doing a scene and Jesse shook his head in refusal showing discomfort at how far gone he was. The older male wasn't looking to be disappointed tonight and he told his Slut he had behaved poorly over dinner and that he couldn't allow him to go on unpunished. So grudgingly his Slut laid over his lap. He was a bit full and with the pressure put against his belly his Slut grew a bit uncomfortable. 

Mr. Raymond gladly took down his pants. His Slut was actually quite modest. He wore plain black boxer briefs that molded every inch and curve of his lower half. Generous mounds begged to brightened and flushed by the force of Mr. Raymond's hand--a plea he was more than happy to answer. 

He peeled the underwear down, hands running over soft, creamy, porcelain skin. His Slut was kept waxed, shaved and moisturized per Mr. Raymond's instructions. His body would always be ready for his enjoyment and the raven haired man enjoyed the indulgent spa day he got each week when faceless workers polished and exfoliated and stripped him of any impurities or imperfections. He secretly liked to preen himself for Mr. Raymond, proud of his lithe form. 

But to all others he was modest. He wore clothing that complimented his body without displaying it proudly. His body was for Mr. Raymond to see--no one else. "Neither you or I do the shopping, Slut." Usually Mr. Raymond purred out his nickname but during punishments it was cold and hard. The slightly intoxicated man bent his head forward with a nearly dejected whimper already seeing where the scolding was heading. "What right so you have to whine about the chef prepares? Five star cuisine, might I add. And that wine was aged for nearly forty years--in what way was it not good enough?"

"I just don't like it Mr. Raymond." He whispered. He hung onto his ankle for leverage feeling as though his body may tip forward at anytime. "It bothers my stomach."

Mr. Raymond was quiet a moment. That was not an answer he expected. "I asked you for a list Slut. Of all the things you cannot or do not like to consume. Specified wine was no where on that list."

He had forgotten all about it, he realized with a tight frown. That was no one's fault but his own and that gave him no room to argue--not that he would. His dick was hardening in anticipation for what would come next. It pressed eagerly against the shimmering spandex that fit him so well. Mr. Raymond knew of course--he always knew--but his Slut would not get any purposeful pleasure this evening. "Speak to me Slut," Mr. Raymond grew weary of the boy's moody silence and gave him a sharp slap to the thigh. 

The sting seemed to revitalize his Slut who spoken sullenly. "Yes Mr. Raymond. It was my error and mine alone. You did not deserve to hear me complain of something that was no one's fault but my own."

Their dialogue, while free handed, always seemed so scripted. Mr. Raymond knew exactly what his Slut would do and say and quite often the inflection in his tone. "Fifteen will suffice." Mr. Raymond settled. 

He ran his palm over the young man's cheeks, plump but firm... Mr. Raymond enjoyed every aspect of the ass he was palming. How it settled against his groin like a pillow when he plowed into his Slut, how the pale cheeks seemed to glow pearly in the moonlight when he took him by the pool in the dead of night... But Mr. Raymond would never let his love of the ass in his hand take away from his Slut's need for discipline. He had been perfectly clear. 

He took the pink band that stood out so starkly between the deep black of the underwear and milky skin tone of his Slut and pulled it down over the mounds of flesh slowly with his index finger. He watched as the skin was exposed, unbelievably erotic as he began to swell. The slow drag against his Slut's skin had his breathing increasing. The gentle pull felt more like a tickle as precum seeped from his tip. 

Too soon those pert cheeks were exposed and Mr. Raymond had to swallow back saliva that had accumulated as he thought about how smooth his skin was against his tongue and how he would leave large love bites on his sit spots before he would ravage his Slut's tight hole with his tongue, nipping lightly at the ring of nerves just to hear him squeal. He grabbed the flesh, kneading each cheek roughly with his fingers before he pulled them apart.

He was so clean and pink... His hole seemed none-existent as it tightened against the suddenly air exposure. Mr. Raymond reminded himself of the task on hand and spoke pleasantly and calmly. "You will count and thank me."

Mr. Raymond could find a good ass anywhere. It was as if it were his sixth sense: Mr. Raymond was a bloodhound for a good ass. Whether it was hidden beneath a towel in the gym or beneath a pair of ill fitting slacks like his Slut had been, he always knew. "Yes Mr. Raymond." 

There a growing unease inside Jesse as his insides fussed over the unwanted liquid rolling heavily inside inside him. As Mr. Raymond adjusted his body to a prime spanking position, the unrest shifted something a bit more queasy and his mouth suddenly felt dry. 

A large warm palm ran over his rump, his middle finger slipping effortless between the soft cheeks to brush over his entrance. Jesse shuddered delicately as his body wrestled between being aroused and dealing with his roiling insides. Mr. Raymon's hand withdrew, leaving his yearning for the briefest moment before it met his skin with a sound that filled the cavernous living space. 

It stung his Mr. Raymond's palm from the merciless hit and he let out a husky noise hidden beneath a truly delicious squeal from Jesse. The milky skin took on a virgin's blush before him as blood was brought to the surface of his skin. "One Mr. Raymond."

His slut's voice was humble and quiet, accepting anything he would give. His member thickened to full mast and he ached to fuck the perfect body on his lap. He ran his carefully manicured nail tips over the skin lightly, watching the skin tighten as invisible hair follicles, waxed to the quick, tried to stand on end. 

What a perfect existence the two shared: giving and receiving, pleasure and pain, reward and punishment, black and white, Mr. Raymond and his Slut. 

He pulled his back again letting it slam against the body below him, not missing the littlest groan his Slut gave before he let out another erotic cry of pain. He paused at that point as Jesse panted, "Two, Mr. Raymond."

"Are you okay, Doll?" He could feel him tightening and loosening his body a bit at this point as if he was trying to keep still but change his position at the same time. 

Jesse wasn't used to such a tender pet name and for a moment didn't know how to reply. At the same time he feared if he opened his mouth he may actually vomit all over Mr. Raymond's expensive Egyptian rug and Mr. Raymond's Slut would never make a mess. "Jesse, you're worrying me."

Jesse's responses to Stephen were always prompt, no blatant hesitation stretching for more than a moment even when his Slut wanted to be stubborn. Jesse put a hand over his mouth as he carefully moved to a sitting position. Tears stung his eyes as his stomach gave off a sickening sound. He felt very strange and he wasn't sure what to make of it. "Do you feel like you're going to be sick, Jesse? I don't care about the furniture just let me know you're alright." His tone was stressed and that made his Slut feel even worse. 

He took a few deep breathes and tried to prepare himself to reply. But as he went to reply no words were able to escape. Instead it seemed fermentation has rose and sat heavily on top of his stomach as it all surged out of him in a completely humiliating belch. 

Never had he done something so improper and disrespectful in front of Mr. Raymond and practically on his face as well! The caring man had actually moved a bit close to feel his temperature with the back of hand when the air escaped. The relief it gave was immediately but short lived. Mr. Raymond blinked in surprise, not quite able to wrap his head around what his Slut had so callously done before the boy had his hands wrapped around his middle groaning. 

"Easy now," he wasn't pleased at the belch but seeing his Slut in such turmoil wasn't pleasurable for either of them. Or maybe, in the smallest way, Mr. Raymond enjoyed it. But not without knowing that it wasn't serious. "Let's get you to up."

He took him by the upper arms, lifting him easily to his feet. The humiliated boy belched again as he stood, the smallest jostles shaking air bubbles loose. Overcome by curiosity Mr. Raymond carefully lifted the loose cotton shirt. His usual taunt flat abdomen was quite a bit puffier than he'd ever seen. "Do you feel like you're going to vomit?" He finally asked.

His Slut shook his head. Mostly he felt the sickening gurgling in his middle and the embarrassing urge to belch more because it felt so good. "Then let's go to bed."

"Mr. Ray--" He belched again, shorter but a bit louder. He put a hand over his mouth as his eyes shone with unshed tears.

"Hush." Mr. Raymond tucked his puffy boy in his arms, resting his chin tenderly on top of Jesse's head. "All that wine just gave you a little extra wind. Belching is normal Doll."

He mumbled an apology that lacked the scripted formality the two usually shared at home and most times in the office Mr. Raymond didn't mind. He pulled the band up over his bouncing cheeks regretfully. He was aching to finish the punishment but the moment was punishment enough for his poor bloated Slut.

Lying back on 1500 count Egyptian Cotton sheets brought his Slut the smallest amount of relief. He belched into his fist as he settled, face now permanently red. "Don't be embarrassed. Let me rub your stomach a bit."

"Really Mr. Raymond that's o--" just settled his heavy hand on his stomach was enough to trigger a burp not unlike his first, low and almost sickly. "Oh Gosh I'm sorry!"

"Just relax and let it out. I'm not offended or disgusted." He was actually quite indifferent or maybe that wasn't the right word... He felt something as he felt a rushing gurgle following by a hard belch. "There's a good Slut. Where did all this air come from?"

After nearly ten minutes of belches he felt an uncomfortable pressure building elsewhere. "I need to--" a burp snuck out. "brush my teeth."

"What? Why?"

He tried to ease away as the pressure mounted, far worse than any other air he'd had to pass from that end but Mr. Raymond caught him around the hips applying a gentle unaware pressure that just made it too much. The air thrummed against the bedding and he felt the subtle rumbling on his side as his Slut belched and buried his face in his hands with a wailed apology.

There was no question what had happened as the heavy smell of sulphur filled the air around them thickly. There was no way to ignore it or to misplace the rotten stench. For a few moments the two sat in silence before another rumble had Jesse hightailing it to the restroom. A closed door could not keep the sound of his blasting wind into a toilet bowl from reaching him however. Mr. Raymond was still caught in a state of utter confusion. 

His cock was...hard. There was something about the humiliation of it all... How he couldn't help it that just made it all seem so...hot. He wondered if this was an interest of his before he heard the whine of a truly embarrassed Slut followed by a dry popping of air echoing against porcelain. His hands slipped down to stroke his cock and he imagined him sitting there, poised and proper, face red and tear streaked as gas burst from that perfect ass, stinking and indisputable, against his will. 

Next thing Mr. Raymond knew he had shot several thick wads of cum against his own shirt. He let out a shaking breathe, feeling a bit undone as he stood, casting the dirty clothes to the side. 

If three glasses could do this, what would a whole bottle cause in his Slut's belly? 

***

All evening his Slut would scurry into the restroom and let out his gas on the toilet with a groan that suggested he expected more. 

Mr. Raymond stayed quiet throughout, content to pretend he didn't notice. And the faint smell that was deep in from the bathroom after a particularly potent burst of air just further increased his urges to see what damage more wine could do. Eventually exhaustion got the better of Jesse and while sharp cramps would wake him up, he'd release the pent up air as quietly as he could thinking Mr. Raymond was asleep and would miss the sound and smell. Until the early morning this went on, a chaotic burst of air every few minutes until it stopped unexpectedly around three am only for his Slut to bolt to the restroom to vacate his gaseous bowels of their meal. 

Mr. Raymond was astounded at the sounds of sheer volume of waste leaving his Slut with each miserable moan. He was always impeccably clean whenever they fucked so he assumed him to be regular. He heard another throaty groan followed a wet splatter. He couldn't gauge how hot he found it. 

"Damn it," he heard him whisper to himself, clearly in pain.

A quaking fart seemed to rattle the bowl as his Slut let out a truly anguished whimper. Mr. Raymond got up from bed and approached the bathroom door with a brief knock. The wet fart changed tones growing far deeper as his Slut attempted to cut it off but found the pressure was too much. "Are you alright, Slut?"

"I-I can't stop Mr. Raymond." He could gear the choking sobs from him as something with a bit more weight hit the toilet followed a sharp, painful sounding blorp of air. "I'm so sorry. I--"

"It's alright. It's my fault if anything--I shouldn't have had you drink so much of it. Would it help if I rubbed your stomach some more?"

Jesse ass was stinging and his gut cramping with gas and pent up waste for two days of less than ideal eating. He hadn't told Mr. Raymond about the slight constipation and he feared he would be scolded for that as well. And the smell was absolutely atrocious. He was sure it had snuck under the door at some point but he was still uncomfortable having him witness it first hand. 

"I'll be okay Mr. Raymond," He assured him over the sound of his own ass. "I should have made my list properly."

Well perhaps it's alright you didn't, Mr. Raymond thought himself. He was still eager to push the limits on this event and see how much red wine his Slut could handle. But for tonight he would just masturbate to his Slut's humiliation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy! If you have prompts let me know!


	4. Stopped Up (Pat & Quinn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holiday cheer and holiday foods aren't mixing well in Quinn's stomach. After a week with no movement he's getting pretty desperate but things take an unexpected turn. 
> 
> **Warning: male gas, scat heavily mentioned, shitty smut (literally), manXman, mature language, lil but o' fluff**

"Happy Holidays."

It wouldn't be soon enough when he could stop ending every conversation he had over the phone with those words. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy the season, he did, but enough was enough. He shifted in his desk chair as he got a moment of false peace. He had memos to be sent, paper work to be completed, faxes to sent... "Slacking on the job huh?" The nasally voice of his office neighbor made him crack an eye.

Trisha was just about ready for maternity leave with her huge bulbous belly. "Hey Trish."

"I was checking to see if you had found time to proof read my email to the McLeery group but clearly your hands are full."

Quinn blew out a breath as he opened his eyes completely and gave her a brief apologetic smile. "I'm sorry I was just--"

"Checked our a bit early? I don't blame you. The short weeks always feel the longest." Trish beamed down at him. "Expecting anything special this year? A ring maybe?"

Quinn tried to keep his personal life just that--personal. But in a small office no visitor went unnoticed and no rumor went unchecked. It had spread like wildfire when they found out the new employee was gay but when he has thought that his boyfriends secrecy last Christmas had been popping the big question, he was left feeling stupid when he came back to work after New Years with an unadorned finger. "Oh I don't know."

"Listen honey if he keeps dragging his feet, dump his ass and move on." The single woman was always more than happy to give her two cents and her coworkers indulged her in occasionally taking that advice. 

"Thanks Trish. I'll get that email taken care of right now."

"Okay--oh and Janice in Receiving made double chocolate chunk brownies."

Damn that woman and her baking! Treats galore had been fun for the first few days but after two weeks of something new and delicious sitting in the kitchenette he was feeling it. His belt was tight, he got winded walking up from the parking area, and he hadn't used to restroom in a week from a diet filled with only booze, chocolate, rolled up cold cuts, baked yummies and coffee. It felt like a rock had collected slowly in his gut leaving him sore and desperate for something that just wouldn't come.

He tried to make a change but his good intentions were sidetracked. He'd go to the cooler to fill his water bottle and catch sight of the candy bowl or a tray of homemade truffles. Then he'd hustle back to his desk puffing and cramping with hands full of food and an empty water bottle. It would have been rude for him to not have tried the food but it was so easy to fill up on the sugary stuff that the salad he grabbed at the supermarket no longer seemed good. Of course a bit of self control would go a long way but Quinn couldn't say no. 

So after he finished proofing he went ahead and treated himself with two of the big gooey cups of pure sugar that he washed down with a guzzling of Sprite. The belch he let out was deep and tasted a bit like chocolate. Cravings temporarily satisfied he returned his desk. 

•••

The carbonation or the chocolate...he wasn't sure.

But together they turned his frozen guts into a frozen burbling mess as he grew  increasingly bloated and uncomfortable as the day inched along. Eventually the groans from his taunt and packed middle had his cheeks painted red as he tried to cough to cover it, never quite falling into beat with it.

Groan. 

He pushed his hand against it, trying to remind it that it could have been being productive and worked on breaking apart the mass inside of him, but all it seemed to was batter air around the blockage. Trish also got bored of finishing non pressing tasks and wheeled closer to his cubicle so the two could chat, resulting in Quinn doing all he could to mask the activities of his innards. 

Finally four thirty rolled around and Quinn was one of the first to sigh off and rush out to his car with muttered wishes for a happy holiday to his coworkers. His phone chirped as he turned off silent, alerting of a few messages from his 'significant other' as Paul in accounting described him. 

Hurry home. I made your favorite *winky face emoji*

Also grab some wine on your way. And a gift for Marcy next door. She just dropped off the ugliest casserole dish ever. 

Despite the tight cramps Quinn smiled a bit. The stereotypical gifts were endless in their complex, spurred from good intentions and devotedly hetero people still in awe of 'those two nice boys next door'. They were all too nice to be annoyed with however so when Quinn stopped to pick up wine to go with their meal he got them a bottle a bit nicer and slipped into a festive sleeve. 

Waiting in the line was torture, struggling to keep still when he had to pass a boulder. With a rush 'Happy Holidays' he scurried back to his car managing to release some of the pent up air that made it clear exactly how long his insides had been blocked up. He heaved a bit, desperate to roll down a window and let the stench dissipate. His temperature gauge ready nineteen degrees and he knew he would look strange doing it so he suffered until he managed to pull out of the parking lot. While he gulped down fresh air and left the smell of week's worth of waste deep out his car. 

He had been carefully avoiding all intimate activities for the past week but he knew with the emoji Pat was hoping for something fun to celebrate Christmas Eve-Eve. He wanted to speed things along but a bad experience with laxatives had him extremely nervous to go down that route. He felt a bit more pressure shifting just slightly and he bore down with a little grunt, biting his bottom lip. He got a short warm fart and absolutely nothing else. 

He debated it back and forth until he got ready to pass the final convenience store before he got home. If he ends up in the hospital it would far more embarrassing than a fart with follow through, he decided. He flipped on his signal and swung into the lot, tires sliding a bit on the wet slush. A Chevy truck blared it's horn in annoyance as it narrowed missed his back end. A brief rush of adrenaline seemed like it would have helped the problem but all it had done was loosen up some more hard gas bubbles which he bore into his seat as he parked much more carefully. 

He let the incident slide easily, figuring it was a sign he had done the right thing. He wanted to make the purchase as inconspicuous as possible. Outright buying a laxative was obvious but as he tossed random items in his cart, trying to make it seem like he was shopping, was easier on his mind. They had cherry flavored milk of magnesia which promised no cramps. As his belly seized with a fresh round of them he decided that it was the best choice. He threw it in and piled a pint of ice cream, half a carton of eggs, some coffee mate, fruit Menotos, a bottle of sparkling juice on top and strode up the counter trying to seem confident. 

The bored cashier couldn't have cared less when the man bought, noisily chewing her gum while she punched into the codes. "Bag?" She tucked a blue dyed strand behind her ear which had an insane amount of rings stuck in it.

"Sure." She threw it all in a plastic bag and held her hand out for the card mumbling the price too lowly for him to hear as she swiped it. "Thankshaveagoodday."

"You too." He couldn't help but be a bit unimpressed by today's youth. It was a mini mart so he hadn't expected superior service but being polite could go a long way. 

He went back to his car, rubbing his middle, and pulled out the little blue bottle, nearly getting his bowels going when he noticed the little yellow price tag. Seven bucks and some change for a twelve ounce bottle? It was highway robbery--literally! This better work.

He measured out the max dose and threw it back with a pained grimace which turned out to be unnecessary. It wasn't awful and it wasn't chalky either. It was similar to the cherry flavored Pepto without the awful texture and hint of bitterness. As he drove home he could imagine it working. 

He pulled in his spot, pleased to see Pat had shoveled the walkway. Inside smelled like Christmas and dinner, thanks to the real tree they had decided to get. So far it hadn't added to the spirit much besides the smell and the constantly need for vacuuming as the little needles rained into their deep carpets with each slight jostle. "You're home! Finally!"

Pat was wearing his stupid little apron, grinning at Quinn before he noticed the bag. "What's that?"

"Oh just some, um, stuff."

"Good stuff?" 

"Milk and stuff." Quinn didn't mean to be brief as he slipped by Pat but he was still dealing with cramps and wanted to lie down for a bit. "Do you mind I take a quick nap."

"Oh sure." Pat couldn't hide his disappointment and that made Quinn both annoyed and guilty. "I'll just finish up cooking and leave you a plate in the oven?"

"No, no. Let's eat together and we can watch Hallmark movies in bed." Quinn rested his palms against his chest as they kissed. 

"You taste like cough syrup." Mused Pat causing Quinn to pull back in embarrassment. 

"Yeah. Sorry. Sore umm throat."

Pat frowned sympathetically. "Baby you work too hard. Go sit down--I'll bring your some tea."

A nice detox tea could give things a jump start he thought eagerly. "You wouldn't mind?" He couldn't help that adorable tone he got when he clearly wanted something but didn't want to have to ask. 

"Yes sweetheart." Pat rolled his eyes with a playful mocking tone. He gave Quinn a swat on the seat that made him yelp a bit as gas barreled toward his exit. "Go sit down."

He was more than happy too as he scurried to their bedroom, accidentally trailing a silent fart behind him that Pat would have to walk through. Hopefully it wasn't as bad as earlier, he thought to himself. He slipped out of his tight fitting clothes into Pat's sleeping clothes, curling up on his side with the Roku remote in his hand. "Whew, did you shit yourself Quinn?"

His face heated up as he sputtered out in offense. "What? No! Why would you even think--"

"Babe if it wasn't me, it obviously was you." Pat was unimpressed by his weak lies and offered him a grin. "Besides, you always have the stinkier farts. Mine are just louder."

Quinn's face grew pinched in embarrassment. "They are not." He muttered. "Sorry okay? I guess I'm just not feeling great."

Pat passed over the mug and sat on the beside beside him, careful to keep upwind. "Upset belly?" He asked with a frown. "Do you think you're going to to be sick?"

"No." Quinn sighed taking a sip of the tea. It was simply perfect: splash of almond milk for creaminess, dash of no calories sweetener and raw honey. And the peppermints taste for a sore throat and a sore tummy. Unfortunately it wouldn't help his bruised ego. 

"Diarrhea?"

"I wish," he sighed before he thought. Was being stuck on the toilet better than being unable to go? He wasn't so sure? He could feel his ass loosening a bit as more air collected from a little wispy toot to an honest to God rip he would sooner die than let rip in front of Pat.

A look of confusion switched to understanding as Pat put two and two together. "How long?" He asked almost curiously.

None of your business, danced on Quinn's tongue but he was too tired of being so stuffed to fight. "Like a week. And I need to fart again so I'd clear out if I were you."

Pat's looked thoughtful a moment. "No you're not feeling well." He decided. "I'll go turn off the stove and put stuff away and I'll come back here and see if we can your little blockage solved okay?"

Quinn was back to be being humiliated. "Pat no. It smells awful--you said so yourself."

"So what? I car more about your comfort than a bad smell or two."

Quinn was convinced he'd regret that but he was so desperate to get something out of him that he just nodded submissively content to let the other man do as he wished to try and revive his bowels. 

•••

Two hours later and both men were scared to light a match in fear of igniting themselves.

The two watched true crime stores while Quinn's ass turned out endless gas and the rock inside him occasionally gave a quiver or two but it often ended up being a large bubble of air. Quinn alternated between pushing until he was red in the face and resting in Pat's arms. The conspipated young man was getting nervous and so was his partner as he tried to make the mass more malleable. "Can you take another dose?" He asked, resisting the urge to pinch his nose shut as another shitty blast of air tumbled against thighs. 

The warm air felt thick on his skin and as many time as he slipped away just a bit, Quinn's rump seemed to find its way near him. The bloated man wasn't doing so on purpose of course, he was just seeking relief and comfort. "I have to give it six hours," Quinn moaned into his pillow as his guts bubbled ominously. "Can you open a window? Please?"

Freeze or die from oxygen deprivation? Pat nodded and pushed open every window in the corner bedroom relieved that Quinn had finally asked. Be hadn't wanted to hurt his feelings by airing out the bedroom but Jesus Christ his ass was rank. "I said a window." Quinn shivered dramatically but uncertainty showed in his dark eyes. "Is it really that bad? I'm disgusting." 

"No it's not." Pat lied immediately before he sighed and corrected himself. "I mean it's kind of bad but I don't care about the smell as much as I'm worried about you being so plugged up. It's Christmas you're supposed to be happy."

"It's hard to do that went your GI tract is stuffed with coal." A short bubbling fart cut the air between them and Quinn waved the air around his ass, red in the face. "I wish this gas would stop though!"

"You and me both," muttered Pat without thinking. 

Hurt shine in Quinn's eyes as he unnecessarily asked, "What?" as though they hadn't heard him clearly. 

"Nothing." Pat got back into position, the fresh stink stronger than ever from his last fart. His hands went back around his gassy globe and felt it churning beneath his palm. It was just a giant gas factory at this point, he thought bitterly. It had been over a week since he got a chance to 'bury the hatchet' with his boyfriend and tonight had hoped to end his dry spell. Quinn grunted out wind that warmed his skin. Pat tried to avoid breathing this nose. "Are the six hours really that important?"

Quinn gave him a puppy dog face and Pat kissed his sweaty forehead with a cheery smile to avoid him yelling or worse, crying. "If you take too much it can cause cramps and make the eventual movement hard to um, hold."

"You already have cramps and why would you hold it? You're taking a laxative to go." Pat didn't understand his hesitation. He didn't know the 'shart story' and Quinn was content to keep it that way. It was bad enough he was breaking wind in a near constant state while Pat suffered at his ass end. "I'll go buy you something else to try."

"Let me try doing it naturally first." Quinn pled. "Maybe if I go sit on the toilet for a bit longer--"

"You sat on there for two hours last time." Pat was sick listening to the wet farts bouncing around in the bowl. At least in bed they weren't noisy. "Clearly whatever you're trying now isn't working."

"It is--nnnghh!--working." His face was crimisom as a sharp cramp quaked his lower half before air seemed to bloat up in colon. 

Pat knew the miserable, hesitant look in Quinn's at this point and knew the gassy release he was holding in. Before long he would either let it go or it would slip back into abdomen and torment him until he got it out in a small, unsatisfying puffs as more built up behind it. So Pat did something a bit more direct than usual. He slid his palm flat on the other side of this his stomach and sunk it in. Quinn did not expect this at all and he grunted in pain as the gas was forced out almost painfully, making his home flutter as a long wet ripe asssualted their ears...and noses. 

"Oh my God--now that must have been packed right up with whatever is stuck inside you." Pat teased. "Lord almighty."

"Stop being a jerk!" Quinn rolled over to hit him only to hit his own smell straight on. He choked out the fetid order and let out a smaller fart. "Oh no!"

He squeezed his nose shut as Pat sputtered with laughter. Quinn looked a bit horrified st his own brand as he wondered if the mass inside of him was decaying. "This is so embarrassing." He mumbled in a nasally tone still afraid to take his fingers off his nose. 

"It's not that bad. I'm being childish." Pat felt a bit guilty because he had ripped a few in Quinn's presence that hadn't smelt great and Quinn hadn't said a word. "I get gas sometimes too."

"You hardly ever fart." 

"Not true. When I went to Egypt on my class trip I had a bad reaction to something and spent hours with sulphur farts and burps. I don't know if you've ever had those but it's the equivalent of farting out your mouth." 

Quinn's face screwed up in disgust and Pat felt accomplished. Now Quinn could feel a little less embarrassed now he had such a story about Pat under his belt. "I'll try another dose." Quinn settled. He highly doubted farting out of the mouth was possible but he wasn't about to risk it by being so plugged up the air came out the wrong end. "But you have to get it! It's in the glove box of my car."

"Done. I'll be back."

•••

The second shot of wild cherry milk of magnesia did the trick. 

After some rough gas, the dreaded shart happened with a gurgling fart and a hot stickiness between his cheeks they made both men gasp in realization. Pat helped Quinn to the toilet and he immediately let out a short torrent of chunky waste before a long wet fart that cut out abruptly. Quinn's stomach gave a sick gurgling and the man folded his hands over it with a groan.

The stored up shit had formed into a hardened mass that was currently forcing its way out of a too-small hole. "Oh no," he whispered to himself convinced wouldn't be able to get it out. It already burned just having it's tip trying to push out. 

"You okay Quinn-berry?" The nickname just made the embarrassment worse. Pat had paused in the doorway with the soiled briefs in hand as he heard the pained noise. 

"It's...it's too big." Quinn's whispered. His intestines shivered around the mass, applying even more pressure. Everything was telling him to bear down and work it out but he was afraid to tear himself open. Explaining rectal tears from a massive shit log was too embarrassing. "It's stuck."

"Just give it a push." Pat encouraged generically. He assumed Quinn was exaggerating a bit. He took Pat's thick penis with ease. The diarrhea convinced him the load would have been softened. Gas shook his middle as it was plugged up by the log that pushed out a bit more making Quinn whine. "C'mon baby. The sooner it's out the sooner we'll be done with all the aches and gas!"

That sounded appealing but he was convinced the mass wasn't going anywhere. "I can't." He stood painfully, feeling like an actually stick had been lodged inside him. It was unmoving and made standing straight impossible as it applied too much pressure to his internal walls and bladder forcing a stream of piss to dribble on the floor. Quinn gasped and grabbed his flaccid penis quickly sitting back down. Immediately the waste torpedoed down to his hole with a brief wet fart before his eyes were watering from the pain. "But I can't stop either and I have so much gas I need to pass."

Pat was at a loss. Call the doctor? Bring him to the ER? He didn't want Quinn uncomfortable and he was at a loss as to how to make the moment better besides ridding him the huge poop that was causing all the discomfort. "You can do if Quinn-berry. Because if you can't I'm going to have to bring you to the hospital." 

Terror made his eyes widen. "No," he whined. He let out a weak little grunt, the slightest increase in pain making him clamp down pushing the knotty rock back up into his straining colon. His sphincter shuddered delicately before a short hissing of hot air had the long log pushing to be birthed once more. "What the fuck."

Pat wanted to leave partially due to smell and partially due to the agony of Quinn's face. But there was also a morbid curiosity of what could possibly be causing him this much pain. "I can rub your tummy some. Would that help?" 

Quinn buried his face in his hands and he tried to push once more. His hole burned as it was forced around the bulbous head of impacted shit. It felt like when he was younger and ate an entire bag of sunflower seeds--shell and all. His movement has been made up mostly of the shells which stung to pass as they scratched up the delicate the muscle. He was starting to get that 'sharp shell coming out' feeling. Moisture built up his eyes and he sniffled--regretting it immediately. The smell in the bathroom was intolerable due to the slightest exposed waste. He looked up with glossy eyes and glanced toward the window meaningfully. 

Pat was on it in a second. It helped the smell a bit but mostly it made the room cold so after a ten unsuccessful minutes Pat shivered and closed the window. "It's really stuck," Quinn whispered. He would give it the littlest push he could as he checked it was ready to slip out painlessly. 

"Well maybe come lay back down for a while?" 

Quinn eyed the embarrassing piss splatter he had yet to clean up and wondered if it would happen again. But his legs were starting to go numb and gas pains were starting to mount up from all the trapped behind the plug in ass. "Alright."

Getting up with a chore. The piece shifted once more, creating a bulge above his pelvis that hadn't been there before. Pat's face twisted up with curiosity as be pressed against it. Quinn yelped miserably and a stream of golden piss was shot out his narrowly missing Pat's socked foot. "Don't touch it." He moaned. "Ugh you made me pee!"

Pat laughed a bit at this childish demeanor in the matter and Quinn looked hurt. "Well let's get all your piss out now then." 

He turned the bloated man around to face the toilet, foot falling in the cold pool of older urine. His nose crinkled as caught site Quinn's behind. The usual creamy skin looked last if had brown freckles on his cheeks as well a much thicker obvious splotch of diarrhea that had dried to his skin from the wet fart in bed. "I can't pee either," Quinn wailed. 

Pat ran his hand over the bulge he had been instructed not to touch and began to lightly knead over it with his fingers. Feeble streams of piss patterned into shit stained water. He could feel the hardened mass moving under the skin and muscle. A strange fascination over came Pat as he was desperate to see just how big it was. "I think my bladder is empty." Quinn whispered.

Pat didn't hear him as he continued to fondle this thing inside his husband. Usually so slim he looked like he was six months pregnant. His hands skated upward and his fingers drummed on the bloating resting over his hips. It was like had swallowed an entire Christmas ham. Milky skin was now stretched thin and sounded hallow. Gas. He was just full of it. Piss, shit, air... 

Pat gave him a little squeeze compulsively. A short wet fart splattered against lower stomach. "Oh my God!" Quinn groaned, the forced of the fart had squeezed around of diarrhea that was clearly stuck behind the log, and pushed it almost an inch out of his ass. 

Pat drew back in regret as he moment of realization. What the actual fuck was wrong with him? Then he saw it. Quinn now couldn't stand straight with the tip of this monster breaching his hole completely. It was incredible. Dark and massive, it stretched his hole to a frightening white color as the skin struggled to keep together as this monster demanded release. It was beneath it a few chunks of soft shit from the shart clung. Quinn entire body was trembling. The log was now pressing direct against his prostate and that was made for a strange combination of feelings. To his utter mortification his cock half filled twitching weakly with each jostle he made. 

He couldn't allow Pat to see him in an aroused state during something so absolutely revolting. "Leave," he whimpered. "I--I'll get it ow!"

Overcome with an usual desire Pat pressed the heel of his hand against the bulging top and pushed it back in. Immediately it slipped back out, half an inch further than the first time, still gaining thickness. Despite Quinn's cry of pain he gave a soft groan as the shit slid back out ending in a pain grunt as it went further. His cock was starting to leak a bit and he quickly folded his hand over it to hide it. Part of him wondered what the fuck Pat had done--and why. "That helped, didn't it Quinn-berry?"

There was something off about his tone. Like when he was describing the kind of blow job he'd giving Quinn on his birthday. Quinn glanced back to see an erection straining his sweatpants, just an inch or two below a disgusting stain. Quinn's breath caught. Why were they both being so nasty? The two liked things that smelled good. Scented candles, wax melts, colognes...and shit apparently. "You've got one too." Pat noticed his unimpressed expression.

Quinn looked down at penis and took pride in the fact it wasn't completely hardened. "That's because it's pressed against my prostate." He muttered. "Are you seriously getting off on me being in pain?"

"No!" Pat was beginning to feel a bit attacked. "It's just... I don't know seeing something so big inside you--"

"You're nasty." Quinn spit. "I thought you were going to help me not pervert me. Is this what you get off to? Shit?"

"No!" His face felt hot. "This hasn't happened before okay?"

Quinn's overpacked belly grumbled as it cramped and Quinn groaned. "I really need to fart," he whispered. "Can you push it back in for a minute?"

The 180 degree turn from scolding Pat for this this strange reaction to asking him to do something that would obviously turn him on had Pat confused. "What?" 

Another long gurgle. "I need to fart Pat. Just push in for a second. Like you did before."

Pat swallowed dryly unsure as to if this was somehow a win. He pushed in the hard nub and a noisy fart came blurting out the filthy hole, another short river of brown behind it. It splattered against the floor between them as Quinn let out a small sigh of relief. "Oh, wait." He grunted and two more lengthy gulping farts broke free followed by a shirt squelching and a torrent of soft shit. The smell was unbelievable and Pat had never been so turned on. 

Quinn glanced back with hooded eyes. Maybe it was his own desperation to get the fucking shit out or maybe here was more to his arousal than simple pressure. It did feel good letting it all go. "That's better," he said softly. 

The much dryer crackling sound filled the bathroom as he pushed out the thick log once more. This time his hold had been loosened up from the constant in and out and the loose shit served as its own lube. "Oh Christ." Quinn groaned it began to come out. 

It was thicker than he thought but it also felt incredible slipping out of him. It just kept coming in one massive piece until it hit the floor. Quinn panted in exhaustion, semen webbed between his fingers. Pat was working himself feverishly as he looked from the brown beast to his gaping, filthy hole. Hallow sounding farts rumbled out of it while Quinn rode of his cramps. A wet gurgling caught both their attentions and Quinn yelped planting his filthy ass on the toilet as wet sounding farts burst out, splattering the bowl with foul shit. 

Pat couldn't contain himself. He was desperate to be inside him. "Can I fuck you?"

Quinn looked down with hooded eyes, disheveled by the events. "In the shower." He mumbled. 

Pat kissed him hard. Quinn's mouth hardly moved against his own, still caught up in his own lethargy. His skin felt thin, cold and sweaty. He pulled him into the shower stall, Quinn trailing behind a splattering of shit as fart still rung freely from his thoroughly destroyed asshole. "You're so fucking hot when you're gross." Pat didn't need lube or prep--all that had been done for him.

Quinn winced a bit as having another hard thick object inside him made his asshole ache. Pat turned on the warm water for Quinn's sake: he deserved some comforting after the ordeal. He lowered Quinn to the floor when he noticed his legs shaking and buried his cock inside him, pulling out when he felt that hot pressure pushing back at him. As he would uncork his hole a wet gurgling surge of diarrhea would seep out, caking around the drain. By the time Pat reached his orgasm the tub had accumulated four inches of shitty water the two were laying in. 

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence before Quinn spoke. "I'm not cleaning this up Pat."

His boyfriend chuckled and kissed the top of his head--the only place really untouched by any waste. "I would dream of asking you too." He shifted backward, taking in the mess around them. "Marry me, Quinn-berry."

"What?" Tired eyes met him in confusion. "Why?"

"Because you're amazing. Not because of this if that's what you're worried about." Pat explained quietly. "I was going to ask you over dinner--the box is in my bedside drawer. I love you Quinn Daniel Lee. I want to have you at myself forever." 

A fart rumbled against the tub and Quinn went red in the face. "In sickness and in health." He confirmed. "If you'll have me of course."

"Will we do all this again?"

"Only if you want to." Pat smiled. 

"Then yes, I'll marry. After you clean this place up. It smells like shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this kind of nose dived into the really gross stuff so if you made it this far thank you! If you have any prompts let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> So, umm, yeah. If you liked this drop me a comment or a kudos if you'd like to see more of this in the future or if you have any suggestions or prompts of your own. Thanks for reading.


End file.
